What started with a random number (BXB) (GAY)

Who the fuck is this?

Emory was sitting in the principals office, he had just gotten into a fight with another student, the third fight this week. His leg bounced as he gripped the arms of the chair, all he could think about was how pissed off his father would be. He shook his hair out of his face and looked at the other boy. The boy was bleeding from his mouth and nose, a bruise was already forming around his eye. He grinned slightly as the boy looked as if he was on the verge of tears, it satisfied Emory greatly. On the other hand, the only thing that affected Emory was his sore jaw from the jab the boy threw at him, and his bloodied knuckles from pounding him senseless.

The principal walked into the office, his veins visible through his forehead and neck. Emory rolled his eyes and slouched in the chair, he's heard the lecture a thousand times before. I'm calling your parents this, you have ten detentions to serve that, you're facing suspension— wait, what?

Suspension?

Emory furrowed his eyebrows and looked at the principal. The principal glared back sternly, placing his hands over his lap.
"You heard me, you're facing suspension. You've gotten into at least 20 fights and the year has barely even started!" The principal hissed. Emory didn't answer for a moment before leaning forward in his chair.
"That's not fair! This is fucking bullshit!" He shouted.
"Watch your language!" The principal demanded.
Emory looked over to the other boy then back at the principal.
"What about—" Emory started before getting abruptly cut off.
"This is Jack's first offense. He's getting an after school detention." The principal explained.
Emory leaned back in his chair, swinging his head back and staring up at the ceiling. He had never noticed that only three out of the four lights were working. Interesting.

As he was staring at the ceiling, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and stared at it, dumbfounded. A random number texted him, and it was... well, weird.

I can get you out of this.

He read it once more, beyond confused. He rolled his eyes before responding.

Who the fuck is this?

"Put the phone away." The principal's voice boomed through the office. Emory ignored him and waited for a response.

The name's Red. Do you want my help or not?

"What the hell?" Emory muttered before typing.

What's the catch?

The reply came almost instantly

If I get you out of this, you can't block me and you must respond to my messages.

Emory scoffed.
"What's so funny?" The principal questioned, standing up out of his swivel chair and tramped over to where Emory was sitting. Emory sent a quick message and put his phone back in the pocket.

Deal.

The principal's phone rang, soon after the text was sent. This caught Emory's attention. The principal hesitated but strode back to his desk and picked the phone up. He stepped outside the office and Emory smirked, pulling his phone back out.

"Mr. Jones told you to put your phone away..." The boy, Jack, mumbled. Emory slowly turned his head to look at Jack, an annoyed expression crossing his face.
"Want another fucking beating?" Emory snarled. Jack didn't respond this time and just looked down at his lap. Emory sucked his teeth before feeling his phone vibrate once more, in his hand. His eyes snapped to the phone, reading the message quickly.

You should be good.

Emory looked up and glanced towards the door, the principal storming in.
"Change of plans, you're off the hook." He muttered under his breath, clearly frustrated with this outcome. Emory grinned before standing and walking out the office door.

How did you do that?

Emory swung his bag over his shoulder, walking down the hall and into one of the bathrooms. He placed his phone on the sink as he peered into the mirror, rubbing his jaw which was turning purple on the right side. He turned the faucet on and put his hand underneath the water. He winced slightly when the water brushed against his knuckles, but he ignored the slight pain and kept them under. After a minute or so he pulled his hand out and turned the water off, his knuckles were slightly scarred but not as much as Jack's face. The thought of it brought a smile to Emory, it was quite amusing to think about, really. He glanced down at his phone and realized the person had replied. What was his name again? Oh, right, Red.

Go to class, don't loiter.

Emory scoffed. "How the fuck would he know what I do?" Emory thought, rolling his eyes. He left the bathroom and turned the opposite way of his next class, rambling down the halls.

What did I say?

He stopped walking and lifted his head up, glancing around. Nobody was in the hallway, it was just him, and him alone. He hesitantly spun around and sauntered towards his class. He was pissed off, but didn't feel like arguing with this man right now.

Good.

Emory was getting more and more confused, so he decided to confront 'Red' or whatever.

How do you know what I'm doing?

He stared at his phone as he walked, waiting for a response, which never came. He rolled his eyes and pocketed his phone, coming to a halt outside of his classroom. He opened the door and stepped inside, all eyes falling on him. The teacher ignored his presence, most had learned to do so by now. He strolled over to his seat and sat down, dropping his bag on top of his desk. His best friend, Stephen, turned to face him.

"I thought you were getting in trouble with Mr. Jones, what happened?" Stephen questioned, wondering how Emory got out of it.

"Some guy texted me claiming to be able to get me out of it," Emory started "And he did just that." He finished off. Stephen just rolled his eyes and turned away, it was obvious that Stephen didn't believe Emory, but that wasn't Emory's biggest concern right now.

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AUTHORS NOTE:
Thank you so much for reading!
I appreciate it. :)

(1034 words)